The Test Subject
by Treadstone
Summary: A wizard changes his sides. But his new allies are unsure of is sincerity, and are unable to find the truth on their own, and so they turn to someone who can find out for sure
1. The Meeting

The full moon shone brightly in the night sky, its soft light spilling into the otherwise pitch dark warehouse through the old stained glass windows. The warehouse was an old building, with rust creeping up its sides and its interior infested with mice. The place had a general dead look about it, as though it had not been used in years. The people who lived close to the warehouse had long since assumed that its owner of the warehouse had found nothing useful to do with it. They were wrong.

A dark figure appeared from the gloom and made its way towards the warehouse, walking in a brisk pace as though not wanting to be seen by anyone. Just as he entered the warehouse, the street lamp nearby went out.

Inside, the man made his way through the dark warehouse towards a small room at the other end of it. When he reached the room, he felt along the wall for the light switch, found it and the florescent bulbs blared to life, showing a desk covered with papers and two chairs, one of which was already occupied by a stranger.

"Good evening John," the stranger smiled, his bright blue eyes twinkling behind his half moon spectacles.

John observed the stranger with mild curiosity, and then nodded in acknowledgement.

"Dumbledore."

"I'm sorry for the unannounced visit, though I have to say, you don't look surprised at my being here at all." Dumbledore continued pleasantly, stroking his waist length silver beard.

John made no reply, but simply seated himself in the chair facing his guest.

"And to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"You're an intelligent man, John." Said Dumbledore, getting straight to the subject. "you're methods are something I will never approve of, but there's no doubt that you're an intelligent man."

John showed no sign of pleasure. His face remained coolly unreadable.

"Thank you for saying so, Albus," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, but crystal clear nevertheless, "But for us to sit here and flatter eachother would be a waste of both your time and mine."

"Indeed" Dumbledore smiled, "it seems that I'm in need of your help."

"_My _help?" John's voice sounded a little surprised.

"Yes, I'm afraid you are the only one who could help," Dumbledore said gravely.

"Care to explain?"

John Kramer stared incredulously across the table at Albus Dumbledore.

"You want me to make this person a test subject?"

"A player in your… games, as you call it," said Dumbledore with a slight smile.

"But why?" John said, "I thought you don't approve of my… methods."

"I believe they are too harsh," said Dumbledore, "but this is a special case."

"Harsh, you say?" John seemed amused. 'And yet we both know how shamefully prone humans are to forget? My methods are harsh because they need to be. We humans forget too fast the easy lessons in life. The only way they will _change _is through experiencing pain. Experience is a harsh teacher, Albus. First comes the test and second come the lessons."

"I take it, then, that you're accepting?" Said Dumbledore seriously.

John surveyed Dumbledore thoughtfully.

"You realize that if he fails, not even you can stop his death."

Dumbledore nodded.

"As I said before, I want to see if he's changed for good, and he's too powerful a wizard for me to see for myself." Dumbledore said.

"Very well then," John murmured, "I'll do it."

"Splendid!" Dumbledore sprang to his feet. "I shall have him-"

"I prefer to take him on my own," John interrupted, "you just need to give me his name and his residence."

John saw the expression on Dumbledore's face, and knew he was wondering how he could subdue a wizard without using magic. However, Dumbledore seemed to have reached a decision.

"Very well then," he said. "his name is Severus Snape."


	2. The Nightmare

Severus Snape's eyes snapped open as he woke with a start. He had been having a nightmare- or so he thought- which involved a cloaked and hooded stranger wearing a pigs mask.

He tried to move, and almost immediately pain shot through his body. Both his arms and legs seemed to pulse with pain, and yet he could not see what it was that restrained him. Snape squinted at his surroundings, trying to figure out where he was, but it was pitch black. Snape struggled helplessly against whatever it was that bound his arms and feet, but only resulted in worsening his already unbearable pain.

_Where am I?_ he wondered again. He tried to recall what had happened, and slowly, it came back to him. He had been at Godric's Hollow, in his beloved Lily's house where she and her worthless husband had been murdered by the Dark Lord. He had gone there on impulse, wanting to be in the place where the love of his life had once lived, where her life had ended.

Severus Snape was an intelligent man, and it soon dawned on him that this was no dream or hallucination; this was real. The moment he came to that conclusion, Snape realized that he was completely naked. He knew this because he felt unbearably cold, and because he didn't feel the brush of clothing against his skin. The only things he did feel were pain and a cool brush of what felt like metal.

Three florescent bulbs glared to life overhead unexpectedly. Snape closed his eyes, allowing them to adjust for a while before opening them. He wished he had kept them closed.

He was, as he had suspected, naked, and was hanging from huge metal frame in the shape of an X, his arms and legs stretched in a spread eagle over the four arms of the frame. Directly in front of him, a few inches from his torso hung two chainsaws, their metal teeth gleaming menacingly in the light. Horrified, Snape looked at his arms to see what was holding him in place, and his horror doubled. There were sings small iron rings on each arm of the X, and every ring had been attached to his body, piercing his skin and muscles. Blood was gushing from all 24 of his wounds, six each on his four limbs.

Snape might have screamed, but he was so horror struck that no noise came from his throat. His mind was numb, but some small part of his mind took in the details his surroundings. He seemed to be in an ancient toilet with small dirty grey tiles, rusted taps and stained mirrors. He also noticed something else. A small television set stood on spindly legged table in front of him. He knew what it was because his father had been a muggle.

The television blared to life, and an unclear image showed in its screen. Trying to remain calm, Snape looked into the TV screen. Some kind of mask or doll with a white face and black curtains of hair, much like his own, stared back at him through black eyes with red pupils. If he had not known better, Snape would have said the doll had a mocking smile stretched across its blood red lips.

The lips began to move, and there came an oddly distorted voice that for some reason sent a chill through Snape's spine.

"Hello Severus," the voice said, sounding eerily cold, "I want to play a game."

Snape stared wide eyed at the eerie doll on the television.

"For all your adult life you have murdered, tortured and maimed with relish, ripping away the lives of innocent people who in your eyes were unworthy of the body they possess. You have torn families apart, hiding behind the mask of so called nobility in order to further your own selfish views. Yet recently you appeared to have changed your views. In spite of that, Severus, your lips still rust with the blood of the innocent. Tonight you will face a series of tests which will judge your so called _conversion_."

Snape felt a bead of sweat run down his face. But there was more.

"Your first test, as you see, is one of pain," the voice carried on remorselessly. "You must first feel the pain you have caused countless families."

Just then, the two chainsaws that hung so close to Snape's torse purred to life, and in seconds the small metal teeth were a blur.

"In order to free yourself, pull your limbs free from the iron rings that hold them." The voice reached Snape's ears effortlessly through the noise of the chainsaws.

"You will have 30 seconds after this tape ends to free yourself, or the chainsaws will tear your torso in less than 15 seconds after contact. You will be shredded by their unforgiving metal and we shall see how pure your blood truly is."

There was a pause, during which the doll seemed to cast an amused gaze at him, and then the voice continued, the dolls mouth moving for the final time before stopping:

"Live or Die Severus, Make Your Choice."


	3. The Choice

"_Live or Die Severus, Make Your Choice."_

The voice echoed a million times over in Severus Snape's numb mind, and he knew that he would never forget that voice for as long as he lived. Snape looked down at the two chainsaws which, even as he watched, inched closer to his body and realized in panic that he might not have long to live anway.

_Thirty seconds…_

Part of what the voice had said echoed yet again in Snape's mind. He only had thirty seconds to rip his arms and legs free before the chainsaws reach him. Snape's mind was in turmoil, a confusing mix of emotions rampaging through his heart as he struggled to remain calm, and yet the noise of the chainsaws were loud upon his ears, and their buzz brought nothing but panic. Vivid images of what was left of his body flashed through Snape's weakening mind, his heart, lungs and intestines splattered on the filthy bathroom walls, his blood oozing off the stained mirrors.

_We shall see how pure your blood truly is…_

Without thinking, Snape pulled his left arm forwards and immediately, he experienced pain like he had never done before. The sound of his muscles ripping away from the iron rings as he pulled at his arms fell on his ears as blood thundered through his body. Snape cried out, his voice a whimper, as his left arm came free. Fresh blood poured out of his six wounds and hit the floor with a sickening splat, but Snape, oblivious to this, proceeded to pull at his right arm.

The chainsaws were now only inches away from Snape's body, their metal teeth a blur as they purred hungrily.

Both arms free, Snape was in the brink of losing consciousness. Both his arms seemed to pulse in pain, he was covered in sweat and blood and his head felt two sizes too small for his brain.

Snape closed his eyes. There were a million thoughts running through his head at the moment, but he knew full well, even in his semi-consciousness, that he would have to think everything through later. Right now, all he wanted was to get as far away as those chainsaws as possible.

Judging by how close the chainsaws now hovered over his skin, Snape knew that if he released his legs one at a time, he would run out of time. The only way he could escape was to pull at both of his legs at once, and he knew that this was going to be excruciatingly painful.

Snape shut of the part of his mind which was screaming with pain, and jerked both his legs forward at once. It was a world of hurt. He was now gushing blood from all 24 of his wounds, making a not so small pool of blood on the floor. Even in that instant of blinding pain, Snape knew he had mere seconds to avoid the chainsaws, and so, shaking uncontrollably, he heaved himself forward a little and allowed his body to fall sideways onto the pool of his blood, avoiding the chainsaws.

As he lay there naked on the bathroom floor, covered from head to foot in his own blood, Snape knew that he was about to die. He had lost a lot of blood and blood continued to flow out of the wounds in his limbs. He was slowly drifting towards oblivion, his sight blurring and the noise of the still working chainsaws fading in his ears.

Surely he was dying?

The thought had barely left his mind when he came to the sudden realization that he wasn't bleeding. He blinked, squinting groggily at his wounds. He still felt a pulsing pain out all of them, but they seemed to have stopped gushing out blood.

It took him forever to get to his feet, and when he finally did, it was only to slip and fall painfully on the pool of blood.

Being more careful this time, Snape got to his feet again, gripping a sink in the bathroom to keep himself steady. It was then that he noticed that there was a door. He had not seen it before because it was behind the iron cross he had been in, out of his line of sight. Still unsteady on his feet, Snape slowly made his way around the trap, keeping well away from the chainsaws, and walked towards the door.

There was something lying on the floor in front of the door. Snape stooped down and prodded it warily. And then he ran a hand over the substance. It took him a full sixty seconds to realize that they were a set of robes.

Hurriedly, he put them on and felt a little better. They seemed to fit him.

What was he to do now? Should he try to get away, or perhaps call for help?

Somehow, he knew that to try either would be pointless. The person who was holding him captive- whoever it was- seemed to have thought of everything. Who was he?

Snape tried to think of someone who might have a grudge against him, but more than a dozen people came to his mind. Whoever the person was, he knew about Snape's history; how he had been a Death Eater, how he had decided to betray the Dark Lord, everything. He also sensed that his captor was extremely intelligent; he had chosen the perfect place to catch Snape off his guard; Godric's Hollow. Snape remembered how he had been too immersed in sorrow, in remorse and in self- hatred to mind his surroundings.

At last he decided to play along with his captors… _game_, as he had put it.

Taking a deep breath, Snape twisted the doorhandle, and found that the door was not locked. He pushed it and walked through.

He now stood in a dark room which seemed larger than the bathroom he had been in. It was too dark to see anything, but he had barely taken three steps in when a solitary light came on in the centre of the room.

A man stood there. Snape tensed. Could this be the man who had kidnapped him? Could this be his captor?

But as he took a few steps towards the man, Snape realized that he knew him.

"Sedgwick." He whispered.

Malcolm Sedgwick had been a Death Eater, just like he. But Sedgwick had run to the Ministry the moment he had found out that the Dark Lord had fallen. He had then claimed that he had been under the influence of the Imperius Curse during his ears as a Death Eater. But Snape knew otherwise. Sedgwick had murdered a lot of people, and he had done it quite willingly. He had been one of the Dark Lord's most trustworthy servants.

As Snape approached Sedgwick, he saw that the latter could not move. He was held in place by a large iron ring that went around his neck. The ring was connected to an iron beam that shot up from the floor right behind Sedgwick. He looked like a mouse caught in a mousetrap.

Snape glanced down and saw that both of Sedgwick's feet were shackled to two separate chains. The two chains went in opposite directions into the darkness, and Snape guessed that they were connected to something on the walls. Snape looked up at Sedgwick's face. He was conscious, and was staring at Snape through wide eyes. But he did not say a word. He couldn't. His mouth was crudely stitched shut.

Somewhere in the darkness, there came the unmistakable sound of a TV blaring to life. Snape looked around and saw the square glow of the TV screen through the gloom.

Static cackled on the screen for a few seconds before the image cleared.

The puppet stared back at him. It's lips moved.

"Hello Severus, and welcome to your second test." The all too familiar distorted voice said.

"The man before you, like yourself, is a man who has committed countless atrocities. Yet recently, he seemed to have to have turned against his former colleagues, pleading that his many crimes were done against his own free will. His excuses have been accepted in exchange for information, and he has been accepted as one of many victims. But you and I know different, Severus, and tonight, I give you the chance to judge him."

Snape glanced coldly at Sedgwick, and he stared back at him pitifully.

"There's a key in the robes your wearing." The puppet continued, it's eyes swivelling in their sockets. "This key will set him free. I leave it to you to decide whether he deserves another chance. If you decide not to grant him the gift of life, the devices on either end of the room will start in one minute, pulling the chains shackled to his feet so tight, that he will be ripped in half. My advice to you, Severus, is that Everybody Deserves a Chance, but the choice is not mine, the Choice Is Yours."


	4. The Deception

"… _but the choice is not mine, the Choice Is Yours."_

The image on the TV screen blurred, showing static before switching off. At the same moment, a digital clock turned on on top of the TV, the red numbers showing one minute. As Snape watched, the timer started to count down. The game had begun.

Snape looked back at Malcolm Sedgwick, and Sedgwick stared back at him pleadingly, trying to speak despite the fact that his mouth was stitched shut. The result was that he made a host of incomprehensible noises through the stitches. Snape looked at him thoughtfully, slowly pacing around him. He saw that Sedgwick's hands were bound together in front of him by a length of rope, so that it looked almost as if he was praying. He also saw that the device that held him in place had a padlock at the back, to which no doubt the key that the puppet had promised would be in Snape's pocket would fit. The two chains Sedgwick was shackled to bore padlocks as well and Snape had to assume that the key would work on all three, should he choose to use it.

Ten seconds were already gone.

_The Choice Is Yours._

Snape pondered on the puppet's last words. Personally, Snape felt no regret whatsoever in letting Sedgwick die, even if it was in such a twisted manner. Sedgwick was no saint. Snape knew for a fact that Sedgwick had taken great pleasure in murdering the innocent, be it man, woman or child.

_So had I..._

This time it was his conscience that spoke to him, and it sounded eerily like the distorted voice that came from the puppet. He was no better than Sedgwick. He knew that. But did he deserve a chance? The puppet's voice echoed in his ears again...

… _Everybody deserves a Chance…_

Snape glanced at the countdown to find that twenty seconds had passed. He sighed and put his hands inside the two pockets of the robes he was wearing.

To his surprise, he found that there was something in both his pockets. He had assumed to find a key in one of them, and then maybe, choose to free Sedgwick. Apparently it wasn't going to be that simple.

With a feeling of dread, Snape pulled both items out of his pocket. His left hand held a key rapped in a small, white piece of paper, just as the puppet had promised. His right hand held a knife.

Snape looked at Sedgwick again to find him staring aghast at the knife Snape held. Then Snape turned his attention to the key. He carefully unfolded the piece of paper and took the key out. He was about to drop the piece of paper when he noticed that there was something written on it. He opened it fully and held it closer, squinting to see what it was.

A single sentence was printed in small black lettering in the centre of the piece of paper.

"_Nothing is what it seems"_

What did that mean? Another glance at the clock told Snape that he had to decide quickly. Should he save Sedgwick or should he not? Surely it wasn't that simple? The piece of paper in Snape's hand told him that something was not right.

Sedgwick grunted loudly, the panic obvious in his voice. Snape looked up at the countdown.

_15… 14… 13… 12…_

"To hell with it," Snape muttered to himself, hurrying forwards with the key in his hands.

_Sedgwick is no guiltier than I am._ He thought. _He deserves a chance._

He went behind Sedgwick and inserted the key into the padlock in the neck restraint. He was about to turn the key when it finally struck him. He knew what was strange.

_Why is his mouth stitched shut?_

Sedgwick sensed that he had stopped, and started to grunt pleadingly again. Snape was immersed in suspicion, but he had no time to ponder over it. He had to choose and he had to choose _now._

Snape turned the key and the padlock clicked open, releasing Sedgwick from his neck restraint. Shape then made to crouch down in order to unlock the padlocks that shackled him, but surprisingly, Sedgwick grunted in protest, shaking his head vigorously and holding out his bound hands in front of him in an imploring manner. His message was clear: _free my hands!_

Snape looked at the knife. He walked in front of Sedgwick and inserted the blade of the knife between Sedgwick's wrists and quickly cut the ropes that bound them. The knife was sharp, and it didn't take long.

As soon as Sedgwick's hands were free, the unthinkable happened.

Now free except for the chains that shackled his legs, Sedgwick turned, his hands reaching inside his robes, gropping at something close to his lower back. With five seconds on the clock, Sedgwick turned back towards Snape, pulling something out of his robes. Snape, utterly bewildered, looked down at Sedgwicks hands and saw a _wand._

In that Snape realized what their captor must have told Sedgwick to do. This had been Sedgwick's game as well as his own.

Sedgwick had been instructed to kill him. That was the only explanation. And now he was going to die. Sedgwick was armed, and he was not. Sure, he had the knife, but that would be no use against a Wand.

It seemed that luck was on Snape's side. Sedgwick turned to look at the timer, thereby wasting time, and that was all Snape needed. He lept forwards and pushed the knife into Sedgwick's chest, right over his heart. Snape pulled back, staring at Sedgwick, whose eyes were on the hilt of the knife sticking out of his chest. Slowly, his gaze lifted and fixed on Snape instead, and Snape, who had expected to see cold fury, saw to his surprise that Sedgwick's gaze only contained sadness.

_4… 3… 2… 1…_

Sedgwick's time had run out, and despite the fact that he had a knife in his heart, he was still alive.

_Not for long_, thought Snape. He was right. With a hum, the mechanisms at either end of the room whirred to a start. They began rapidly pulling the chains attatched to Sedgwick's feet. Snape watched as Sedgwick began to run out of time. The chains tightened as the machines pulled more of them in, and in that instant there was a bloodcurdling scream.

Snape watched, wide eyed, unsure whether he should feel any remorse. As the machines continued to suck in the chains, Sedgwick's legs parted. There was a crack as his legs got pulled in a perfect 180 degree angle. Sedgwick was now screaming hysterically, his mouth opening despite the stitches. Blood poured from his groin area. With a sickening noise, his body began to rip apart at his crotch. The rip continued up to his stomach, his intestines falling in a slimy bunch as blood spurted endlessly from his insides.

Sedgwick stopped struggling when the rip reached his chest. He heaved one last breath, blood expelling from his mouth, before the top part of his body fell backwards. The chains continued to pull until his body was in two pieces. Snape stared, feeling sick, at Malcolm Sedgwick's mutilated remains.

Half a dozen florescent bulbs turned on, illuminating the whole room. Snape tore his gaze away from the bloody mass and looked around. He could now clearly see the old TV that stood on a stand a few steps away. A timing device which had counted down the last minute of Sedgwick's life, lay on top of the Television set. Snape made to turn back, but then he noticed something else; something he had not seen when the room was in darkness.

A small grey tape recorder lay on top of the timing device. Feeling ominous, Snape walked to the TV and picked up the tape recorder. Its **play** button was on, and the small tape that was inside seemed to have reached it's end. Slowly, Snape pressed the rewind button. His heart thumped a little faster. When the tape had rewound, he pressed the **play**__button.

"Hello Malcolm," the distorted voice said. Snape stopped the tape. He had expected this. Before, he had suspected that this had been Sedgwick's game as well, and he was right. This tape undoubtedly dictated the rules of Sedgwick's game. Snape thought he knew what the tape said.

But there was something else that bothered him. How had the tape played when it had been well out of Sedgwick's reach? And even if he had by some miracle been able to reach it, Malcolm Sedgwick was a Pureblood; he couldn't identify a tape recorder from a TV remote. The only plausible explanation was that someone had played it for him, possibly a few minutes before Snape had entered the room. That someone was responsible for this.

Snape rewound the tape and played it from the beginning, just in case there was a clue as to what was next.

"Hello Malcolm. I want to play a game. A wizard you are all too familiar with will enter this room shortly. He will have to make a choice, and if his decision is in your favour, your game begins. There are four restraints binding you. Unfortunately that wizard will only have means of releasing you from _two _of your restraints. The means to release yourself from the remaining restraints is taped to your lower back. Better be careful, because he might misinterpret your intentions. Live Or Die, Make Your Choice."

The tape went silent. Snape found that his hands were shaking. The tape recorder in his hand clattered to the floor. The tape inside was still playing. Ignoring it, Snape stumbled towards Sedgwick's remains. He located the padlock in one of Sedgwick's legs and tried to fit the key he had into it. It didn't fit.

Snape saw the wand, covered in Sedgwick's blood, still gripped in the corpse's stiff hand.

_Oh no_.

In a flashback, Snape remembered wondering why Sedgwick's mouth was sewn shut.

He felt cheated. Hoodwinked. The rules in his game had said nothing about this.

Suddenly, something clicked in his head. He looked down at his hands, one gripping the key and the other gripping a now crumpled piece of paper that had been wrapped around the key.

He smoothed it out with a feeling of dread and read the single sentence once again. Too late, Snape realized what the words meant as his voice came out in a hoarse whisper. The still playing tape recorder issued a high pitched repetitive chuckle, as though the puppet was snickering at his realization.

"Nothing is what it seems"


	5. The Haunting

"_Nothing is what it seems."_

After what seemed like an eternity, Snape pulled himself together. He uncoiled his fist and looked again at the crumpled note that he held.

Cold hatred swelled within him, seeming to ripple outwards from his core. While he knew, in his mind, that he fully deserved everything that had happened to him, he felt nothing but anger and loathing at the person who had made him face his nightmares.

The eerie, high pitched laughter still came from the tape recorder that lay on the floor, seeming to promise that the worst is yet to come.

Snape looked across the room at the closed door. It hada keyhole. He slowly made his way across the room and twisted it's handle, but the door didn't budge. Remembering the key that he still clutched in his hands, Snape tried to ease it into the keyhole, but it wouldn't fit. He hurried back to where the tape recorder lay, rewound it, and listened to the recording again. It said nothing about how to get through the door. How in the world was he supposed to open the door?

As soon as he had thought of it, the answer clicked.

_Of course._

It was too simple.

Snape walked to where the remains of Sedgwick lay. Timidly, he bent down and looked down at the mass of blood and flesh, searching. It didn't take long. There it was, in the still clenched fist of Sedgwick. The wand. Snape's fingers closed around its tip, and he tugged. The wand remained firmly in the dead man's hand, as though unwilling to leave him. Snape tugged harder. The wand came free at the third tug.

Feeling slightly sick, Snape straightened up again, unable to tear his eyes away from Sedgwick's body. He felt nauseated, and forced himself not to look at the grisly remains.

As Snape walked away from the body, towards the closed door ahead, a single question loomed in his mind.

_What nightmare will I face next?_

As he approached the door, Snape lifted his wand. It felt good in his hands, and he felt sure it would work perfectly for him.

"_Alohomora!"_

There was a click, and the door creaked open.

The room, as he had expected, was pitch dark.

Snape took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and opened them again, before taking his first few steps into the dark. Nothing happened. T o his surprise, Snape found himself praying that it would remain this way, that the florescent bulbs wouldn't burn to life, revealing his next horrifying game.

The sudden light burned into Snape's retina as half a dozen bulbs blared to life overhead.

Snape found himself in a small room, identical in size to the bathroom he had woken up in a million years ago. There was someone in the middle of the room. Snape started at the sight of the person's face and lifted his wand. Then he realized what he was seeing, and lowered it again.

Snape wasn't sure who it was, but it was obvious that it was yet another victim. It was a woman. She was completely naked, as Snape had been. Her arms were shackled to two chains hanging from the ceiling, and they seemed to be the only thing holding her upright.

Snape couldn't see who it was, mainly because a mask of a pigface had been donned over her head. To Snape the mask looked eerily familiar, and he resisted the impulse to Jinx her then and there.

_It's just a taunt he's playing_, he assured himself. His captor _wanted _Snape to be weary. And it was working.

_She's just a victim_, Snape assured himself, but what he had read on the small piece of paper only moments ago flashed across his mind.

_Nothing is what it seems…_

Snape stared at the woman before him, and then at the devices that surrounded her.

_What in the name of Merlin?_

No less than a dozen small nozzled tubes hung around her body, each aimed at her at different angles. Snape's gaze went upwards, following the tubes. They were connected to two large containers, both filled to the brim with a clear liquid.

Snape's gaze fell to the woman again. She was in good shape, and appeared to be in her late twenties. About his age, if he had to guess. He looked at the pigface mask covering her face. Only her eyes were visible, staring wide eyed at him through the mask's eyeholes.

They looked oddly familiar.

Snape took a step forwards, intent upon taking the mask off, but he stepped on something. Looking down, he saw with a jolt, that a small grey tape recorder lay on the ground.

Snape stooped and picked it up, pressing the "play" button as he straightened up again.

"Hello Severus. If you're hearing this then you know by now that _nothing is what it seems_." The distorted voice sounded amused. "Your next test is one of Acceptance. In taking off the mask placed on the woman before you, you will find her to be someone with whom you're quite familiar with. Indeed, who'll find her to be the only person who was capable of giving life to your black heart. But do not be fooled. I tell you now that the person who stands before you is nothing more than an impostor. You will know, in your mind that my words are true, but the question I ask you Severus, is whether you are ready to accept the undeniable truth."

Snape glaced at those familiar eyes again.

"I ask you now to walk away, onto your final test. But in the event that your curiosity gets the better of you, here's my advice to you. _Do not let your heart blind what your mind can plainly see._ If you take off the mask, the game will begin. The tubes that surround her will spray her body with Hydrochloric Acid at intervals, ruining her beauty forever. When the procedure is over, she may or may not be alive, but she will, without a doubt, be in unbearable pain. The only thing you have to do to stop this, is to use your wand and end her life quickly, thus sparing her the pain. Be warned Severus, that the rules have to be followed. But I implore you to fight your impulses and proceed to your final test… Make Your Choice"

Snape kept listening, hoping for a clue, but that was all the tape contained. He frowned. What could this possibly mean? Should he continue without looking beneath the mask? Was this another trick? He doubted it.

He looked again into the eyeholes of the pigface mask. The woman stared back at him through her beautiful, bright green eyes. Those eyes which had haunted him all these years, and even more so in the past month.


	6. The Acceptance

_Those eyes which had haunted him all these years, and even more so in the past month._

Snape stared at those beautiful, bright green eyes which, even in this moment of distress, had a haunting attraction about them. He tried to turn away, but found it impossible to do, his gaze locked in a seemingly unbreakable trance she held in her eyes.

Without warning, Severus Snape found a completely alien feeling gush into his heart. It was completely insane, but at that moment,the feeling engulfed him, filling his soul with a sense of impossible happiness, blinding fact and reason.

In fact, Snape was bewildered to feel what he felt. It wasn't anger or hate. Nor was it fear or cowardice.

It was an emotion he had not felt for a very long time. So long that it seemed foreign.

It was hope.

Through the cloud of insanity, a small voice of reason spoke imploringly.

_An impossible hope_.

Could this be? Could it be her? Is she the person I hope her to be?

And with those questions came an unbearable, uncontrollable impulse to pull the mask of it's wearers face.

_I ask you now to walk away_….

Some small part of his mind knew that that was the right thing to do. But that was the problem; _small_ part. The rest of him wanted to tear the mask away and see for himself whether it was truly her.

_She's dead_, whispered the tiny amount of sanity he still possessed. _You cannot change what has happened. _

_Your next test is one of Acceptance…_

It was clear as crystal. All he had to do was _accept_ what the puppet had called "the undeniable truth". That she was gone. That this was not her, hanging by chains before him.

But he _had _to know for sure.

Snape lifted his hand and had almost touched the wet surface of the mask when something occurred to him. He looked down at his wand. At that instant it dawned on him that he was, in fact, a wizard. He had forgotten that fact.

"I can do magic!" he whispered, as though he had just discovered his magical abilities.

Snape lifted his wands at the shackles the woman hung by, not noticing that she had started to shake her head.

"Alohom-"

A jet of liquid squirted out of one of the tubes and hit the woman square on the stomach.

Even with the mask's muffling effect, the woman's screams echoed all around the room as the acid ate into her soft skin , melting it.

Snape watched in utter horror, wand still aloft, at the place on her stomach wear the acid had burned the flesh away. Fortunately it had only been a short burst, but even so, it was clear the pain was not small. The place where the acid had hit now burned an angry red, blood seeping out of the wound. He felt nauseated just looking at it.

Slowly, Snape lowered his wand and on second thought he pocketed it, trying to show whoever it was that was observing him that he had realized his mistake. The rules had to be followed. He was back in square one.

Snape glanced down at the tape recorder that he still clutched in his left hand and noticed something he had not seen before. A small, plain white piece of paper. His heart skipped a beat. The piece of paper was folded into a small, neat square and was glued to tha back of the tape recorder.

Careful not to tear it, Snape pulled at the small piece of paper. It came loose almost at once; the glue had not yet properly dried. Taking deep, calming breaths, Snape unfolded the small piece of paper and stared at it. As before, a single sentence was printed in small clear writing in the middle of the paper.

_Once your choice is made, there is no turning back_

_What exactly is that supposed to mean? _Snape wondered. He read it again, but it made no more sense that it had done the first time. _Once your choice is made? _

After mulling it over for sometime and still coming up with nothing, Snape decided grudgingly to leave it for the moment. He would worry about it later. He turned again to the problem at hand. _To unmask or not to unmask?_ He wondered with a grim smile.

Severus Snape had never been a man who acted on impulse, but at that instant he made a sudden and whimsical decision to take the mask off. It was as though his ability to think clearly and reasonably had been wiped blank. His hand reached out as if he had no control over it and fell on the top of the mask, intent upon pulling it away. The surface was wet with what seemed to be sweat.

He was just about to give into his impulse when a sudden, random memory leapt out at him. It was so unexpected that he froze on the spot, his right hand still resting on the mask.

It had happened a few minutes before he had left for Godric's Hollow. The parting conversation he had had with Albus Dumbledore mere seconds before his departure.

"And where do you plan to go today, Severus?" the Professor had asked, his bright blue eyes piercing through Snape's knowingly.

"Godric's Hollow." He had replied in short, his mouth barely moving as he had hissed the answer.

"And what do you hope to accomplish by going there besides drowning yourself in an abyss of bitterness and self hatred?" Dumbledore had said conversationally, eyeing Snape with mild curiousity.

Snape had pretended not to hear the last part of the question, but pondered over the appropriate answer nevertheless. He had answered in a single word, after careful thought.

What did he hope to achieve?

"Acceptance"

Now, in the small filthy room and still in agony from the wounds he had sustained, Snape felt as though he had been hit by the Knight Bus. This was not mere coincidence. He was sure of it. What, then, did this mean? Was this man, who was making Snape face his fears, a wizard? Snape remembered how the wounds on his limbs, though without a doubt very serious, had stopped bleeding all of a sudden. Now that he thought of it, he knew of a certain potion that had that particular effect.

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. His hand still rested on the mask. Through the remembrance of the memory, he had realized one more thing.

He should not take off the mask.

With that, he made to remove his hand from the mask. To his confusion, the moment he pulled, the mask moved as well. Snape was struck with a feeling of unease. He tried again, but it seemed that somehow, his hand was stuck, as though it was glued-

"Oh no" he whispered, fumbling with the small piece of paper and the record player. He read the sentence again, "no,no,no,no.."

_Once your choice is made, there is no turning back_

He had made his choice when he had placed his hand on the mask which, he now realized, had been covered in wet glue. Now, as the note had warned, there was no turning back.

For the second time that night, Snape felt as though he had been hoodwinked, and cursed himself for letting himself fall into the jaws of another trap.

Even through his anger and desperation, Snape realized that the substance applied on the surface of the mask was not normal. It had to be magic. How else had his hand stuck so firmly onto the mask within mere minutes of contact? He wondered again if his captor was a wizard.

Snape stared sadly at the woman's eyes again. What choice did he have now?

Taking a deep breath, and then another. Closing his eyes, he pulled his hand away, and felt the mask slide off the head of the woman.

His heart beating faster than ever before, Snape forced his eyes open. His heart stopped.

It was Lily Evans.


	7. The Mastermind

_The beautiful face of Lily Evans was in front of him._

Before Snape had time to do or say anything, a short burst of liquid squirted from one of the nozzles, the acid landing on Lily's shoulder and seconds later, another squirt of acid sprayed on her lower back. She screamed out, her eyes wide and her mouth gaping open, as the acid ate away at her body, her flawless skin burning and blistering where the acid had hit her.

Snape stared, his whole body numb with shock and non responsive.

The next one landed on her chest. Snape's ears were ringing with the sound of her blood curdling screams as she struggled against the chain she hung by, dark red blood flowing from her multiple burn wounds and forming a small pool under her. She slipped on her own blood and would have toppled if not for the shackles holding her arms firmly in place.

Snape's lower lip was trembling. He had no idea what he should do. He wasn't sure he could take any more of watching Lily Evens being burned alive, he didn't even want to contemplate the alternative. He heard a distant clatter, and looked around in surprise to see where the noise had came from, trying without success to ignore the continuous screaming. There was no one else in the room.

He looked down in surprise to see that his wand was on the floor. His shaking hand had dropped it. He stared at the wand as though he had just seen it. It would just take two words.

"Please…"

Snape looked up with fear in his heart. Lily was sobbing. She stared directly at him through her bright green eyes.

"…please make it stop…"

Snape shook his head. He can't. He just couldn't bring himself to end the life of the woman he loved.

_Your next test is one of Acceptance._

The next jet of acid hit Lily's face.

"No!" this time it was Snape who shouted out, his hands outstretched in a gesture of denial as Lily screamed worse than ever as her beautiful features were burned away by the Hydrochloric acid. She threw her head back and screamed out in pure agony, the muscles in her neck taut.

She was unrecognizable. Her face was a raw, bloody mask and her body resembled a large chunk of raw meat. Most of her skin was gone, burned away by the acid. Her pretty red hair fell away as he watched. But the jets of acid did not stop, but continued to eat away at her flesh.

"PLEASE!" she screamed, her mouth a hideous grin, for her lips had been burned away. Her eyes, with their lids burned off, were perfectly round in her bony sockets, "PLEASE MAKE IT STOP! I CAN'T-"

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!" _

Her screams were cut off abruptly, and her mask of a head fell sideways onto her bloody shoulders and her eyes rolled up. She was dead.

Snape fell to his knees, his body shaking with uncontrollable grief. The wand he had picked up mere seconds ago rolled to the floor from his numb fingers. He shook with suppressed sobs as wave after wave of grief hit him. Even as the tears flowed, he wondered why he was crying. He felt sure it wasn't for the dead, broken woman who hung by her hands before him. No matter how much he tried to fool himself, he knew that this wasn't Lily Evans. Sure she looked like Lily. Even her eyes. But she had lacked something that Lily Evans had always had. Spirit.

So why was he crying?

In the end it dawned on Snape, as he clambered unsteadily to his feet, that he was crying for the plassing on of the _real _Lily Evans. The one who had been murdered because of him. His tears were a part of accepting that she was gone, and he was the one responsible, and that he had to do everything in his power to make sure she didn't die in vain.

A door in the other end of the room opened.

Snape scrambled to get the wand, scooped it up and pointed it towards the door that now stood ajar. No one seemed to be anywhere near the door, so after a moment's hesitation, Snape walked towards it. Stopping only for a second, he cautiously walked through the doorway.

_What the?! _Snape stared at his surroundings, dumbfounded. He seemed have walked into a kind of workshop. Dozens of tables stood all around him, strange metallic devices and life sized plastic dummies lying on them. The floor was cement and the walls looked like they had not been painted for years.

Snape walked in between the tables, his eyes roaming around the room wearily. His wand twitched in his hand as he held it aloft, ready if anyone were to pounce unexpectedly on him. After the unexpected revelation in the previous room, he was convinced that he was dealing with a wizard.

Suddenly, his eyes fell on a table in the other end of the workshop. There were two reasons his attention had fallen on this particular table. The first reason was that unlike the other tables, it was completely bare. And the second was because a man stood behind the table with his back to Snape. This man was medium height and had short, white hair. He wore a black trench coat with it's hood down. He seemed not to have noticed Snape, for he was poring over something Snape couldn't see.

Careful not to make any noise, Snape walked closer to the table, his wand pointing directly at the man's back. He was about two steps from the table when the man straightened up. Snape stiffened, gripping his wand hard.

"Hello Severus." His voice was chilling. The man turned around to face him. His face was pale, so much so that he might have been a vampire. He had sharp features. His thin lips had a slight smile stretched across them. His nose was somewhat like Dumbledore's though not nearly as crooked or as long. But it was his eyes that made a shiver go down Snape's spine. The man had blue eyes, but they were not warm or twinkling like Dumbledore's. In fact, they resembled two chips of ice.

Without knowing how he knew it, Snape realized that he was finally face to face with the man who had kidnapped him.

The man seemed to have guessed what was going through his mind. He smiled, his cold blue eyes regarding Snape with amusement.

"I don't believe we've been introduced," the man said, coolly disregarding the wand Snape was still pointing at him, "my name is John Kramer. And make no mistake," he added as an afterthought, " _I _am the one who is responsible for you being here."

At that moment Snape noticed what the man had been poring over before. Another involuntary chill ran down his spine; it was the puppet. The eerie puppet who had dictated the terms of his tests. Now it sat lifelessly on the table behind Kramer. Snape looked back at him. Kramer was still studying him with mind curiousity.

"Why?" Snape asked, his wand still on Kramer.

"Because it's what I do Severus. I don't imagine a wizard would know of my work, though. But I assure you that regular people, or muggles, as you call them, are quite familiar with what I do, although I have to admit that they have the mistaken impression that I actually _kill _people." He seemed disgusted by the mere thought of it. He shrugged, sighing, "but come now, we're running out of time. Or at least, _you _are." He shot Snape another amused gaze. "please do have a seat, and be ready to face your final test."

"There will be no final test." Snape hissed. He gestured at the wand he held "as you see, the situation is out of your hands, John."

John chuckled, pulling up a chair.

"See that's where you're wrong, Severus." He sat down, "make no mistake that _I _am the one who holds your life in my hands. Now sit down."

Snape didn't know how to explain it, but somehow, John Kramer seemed more intimidating of the two of them. Nevertheless, he remained standing.

"Very well then, if you prefer to keep standing." John gave him another chilling smile.

"What d'you want?" Snape asked.

"What do I want?" John smiled again, looking as if he had expected the question. "_I want to play a game_. Your final test…" He reached into his trench coat. Snape tensed, but John merely pulled out a syringe full of some clear liquid. Snape eyed it wearily as John placed it on the table.

"…is one of trust." John completed the sentence. He looked right at Snape before continuing. "There's a slow acting poison coursing through your system. It was injected by me approximately one hour and forty-five minutes ago. This particular type of poison is magical in nature. It will result in a most painful death precisely two hours after it is injected. All you have to do to stop this from happening is to inject the antidote into your system before your time is up. The syringe that lies on the table before you contains that antidote. You have my assurance that I am your ally, and I give the antidote to you as a gift for passing my tests. My question to you, Severus, is whether you are willing to trust the person who during the last two hours, has made your life a living hell? Are you ready to trust your new allies, and stake your life on their word?"

John Kramer tilted his head slightly as though waiting for his reaction.

"Make Your Choice."


	8. The Ending

_John Kramer tilted his head slightly as though waiting for his reaction._

"_Make Your Choice." _

Snape stared at the man sitting behind the table, unable to believe what he was hearing. Slowly, his gaze fell to the syringe on the table, and then back to John Kramer, who raised his eyebrows questioningly, silently asking telling him to make the decision.

Snape lowered his wand, firstly because it was far too obvious that John Kramer was not intimidated by it, and secondly because he couldn't think of a single threat to hiss at Kramer. It was not as though Kramer was trying to hide anything. He had done quite the opposite. He had given Snape all the facts and had put him in a situation where he alone could make the decision.

Eyeing Kramer suspiciously, Snape drew the chair close to him and sat down. He was now face to face with Kramer.

"Who are you?" said Snape.

Kramer pondered on his question for a few seconds.

"I'm not a wizard, Severus,' he answered, seeming to have guessed what Snape had meant, "I am a muggle; a normal human being with no extraordinary power. The media has christened me as the Jigsaw Killer, or Jigsaw. But come now, what does that matter to you?"

Snape frowned. He had heard of the Jigsaw Killer. Rumours of this psychopathic serial killer had even reached the ears of the wizarding world, which was normally happily oblivious to the happenings in the muggle world. He wondered whether to trust his word. Snape wasn't the trusting sort, but in the even that what Kramer had said was true, Snape only had a few minutes more to live.

He had to make a choice, and he had to do it quickly. But he was quite unwilling to make his choice based solely on Kramer's word. He craved more information. Assurance. And he would get it…

"I've heard of you. You're a madman…" said Snape.

Kramer smiled, his white teeth showing.

"I'm a madman?" he replied softly. "Who is it that had Lily Evans, the woman you claim to love so much, very much within his reach, and yet allowed himself to lose her because of some selfish, hollow belief that some are superior to the rest? Who is it that didn't realize his mistakes before it was too late? Who is it, that through _poor moral decisions_, lost the one person who, ironically, would have been your salvation?"

Snape gripped his wand tight, his knuckles white. He wanted nothing more than to wipe the sneer of Kramer's face, but he resisted the impulse; each and every word Kramer had said were true.

"Now you tell me Severus, who the madman is."

Snape glared at Kramer, and yet under all the rage and fury and guilt, his mind pushed him on.

"You say you're not a murderer?" Snape said, choosing his words with care, "what about the people back there?" He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, indicating Malcolm Sedgwick and the Lily Evans imposter, "what about them?"

"Their lives depended on the choices you made," said Kramer smoothly, "I warned you, in both occasions Severus. Had you heeded my warnings, they would have lived."

Snape pondered on his next question. He wasn't just asking random questions. He wanted to see whether John Kramer was the ally he claimed to be. He wanted to know whether to trust him.

It was no secret, even during his Death Eater days, that Severus Snape was an expert in reading people, in seizing them up. He had a natural gift for it, and that coupled with his skill in Legilimency had proved to be priceless, and it was certainly helping him now.

"And if someone survives a game of yours?" Snape ventured.

"Then they are instantly rehabilitated," replied Kramer, with much emphasis on the word _instantly_, "they deign to appreciate their blessings and savour even the smallest things in life."

Kramer looked at Snape curiously.

"Forgive me Severus, but I see no connection in your questions and the fact that you have approximately six minutes more to live."

"On the contrary John," Snape replied, attempting to sound pleasant, "I want to see whether you are worthy of my trust." It was half-true.

"I assure you again that this syringe will save your life, Severus." Kramer said. It seemed as though he was none the wiser about Snape's attempts to venture into his mind.

"Has anyone survived your tests?" Snape said, ignoring Kramer's words.

"That is not important." Kramer said, the iciness evident in his tone. He glanced at his watch.

"Your time is almost up, Severus. Make your choice." He glanced at the syringe on the table and then at Snape.

Snape closed his eyes, various visions racing through his mind. He saw John Kramer talking to a pretty woman with dirty blonde hair in what looked like a clinic. He saw Kramer behind his desk, sketching the blueprint of the Iron Cross he had woken up on. Now John Kramer arrived at Gordric's Hollow and donned on the Pigface mask.

Snape felt dizzy as Kramer's thoughts and memories flashed through his minds eye. He searched frantically for the correct one. The thought that would free him. And there it was.

The contents of the syringe that lay before him.

It was the antidote. And he had mere seconds to inject it into himself.

Snape's eyes flew open. Kramer was still eyeing him questioningly. Snape grabbed the syringe, rolled up his sleeve and injected the antidote into his bloodstream.

Panting, Snape pulled out the needle of the syringe and threw it aside. It seemed that he had been saved.

Across the table, John Kramer smiled.

"Congratulations Severus, you are still alive."

Glaring at Kramer, Snape realized that he was now in control of the situation. He stood up, his wand raised.

"And now, you pay for what you have done."

Snape felt no guilt. He wasn't about to kill Kramer. Just stun him and hand him over to the muggle authorities along with evidence as to his true identity.

"I suspect you will be very sorry for your actions." Snape said coolly.

"Stu-"

Something was wrong. His mouth was numb. His whole body was numb.

"I'm afraid that once again, you're under a mistaken impression Severus." John Kramer said, chuckling.

"What-?" Before he could complete the sentence, Snape's vision blurred and he collapsed to the ground unconscious.

John Kramer looked down at the unmoving figure of Snape, a slight smile across his lips.

"Game Over."

***

The night was rainy. John Kramer sat alone behind his desk in his workshop as the heavy rain pounded away outside. A large, reel to reel tape recorder sat on the desk next to a microphone and a set of blueprints. He had a red file open and was immersed in its contents, which included a few notes and close to a dozen black and white photographs, most of them depicting a woman in her late twenties as she went about into a shop or into her apartment building. There were also copies of her criminal records.

There was a sudden _pop_, and Albus Dumbledore materialized in front of him.

"Have you no manners, Albus?" said John without looking up from his file, "please, do have a seat."

"Thank you," said the wizard, smiling as he sat down facing John.

"Well?" John lowered the file and looked inquiringly at Dumbledore.

"He is in shock. Still in the Hospital Wing, but recovering." Said Dumbledore, eyeing the tape recorder with mild curiousity.

John nodded.

"And would this be your next test subject?" inquired Dumbledore, now looking at the contents of the open file sitting in front of John, trying to read the name upside down.

"Yes." John said in short, making no attempt to close the file. It seemed as though she wanted Dumbledore to see what she woman had done.

"Oh dear," Dumbledore said shortly, staring at the pictures. "How unfortunate…"

"It was her choice to be what she is, Albus." Replied John.

"But there are certain places she could go to try and recover." Dumbledore suggested mildly.

John let out a short laugh, shaking his head.

"Places where she can hide when the police comes by"

Dumbledore accepted the jibe with a light smile.

"Regarding Severus," he said, finally getting to the subject he had wanted to talk about. "you think he is ready?"

John looked thoughtfully at Dumbledore.

"Yes," he said at last, "his mind is ready."

"And his heart?" ventured Dumbledore quietly.

"I don't deal in the matters of heart, Albus, as you full well know. That is, as they say, _your_ department," he said with a slight smile.

"Indeed." Dumbledre smiled, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon glasses. "And I must say I'm quite impressed by the way you managed to resist Severus' legilimency. It's impressive how you managed to show him only what you wanted him to know, and hide the fact that the syringe that contained the antidote also contained a considerable portion of sedative."

"You're omniscient as ever Albus." Said John.

"Oh I just like to keep an open mind," replied Dumbledore, "and I'm certainly aware of how good you are in anticipating the human mind."

John inclined his head in acknowledgement.

"Well then." Dumbledore sprang to his feet, "I believe our business is over."

"Yes" John got to his feet as well.

"Thank you for taking your time and energy to fulfil my request." Said Dumbledore, bowing.

"Not at all," said John politely. "he proved to be an interesting Test Subject."

Dumbledore smiled, nodded one last time.

"Until we meet again."

Before John could answer, he vanished with a small _pop._

John sat down again, sighing. With a slight shake of his head, he pressed the rewind button on the recorder, intent on listening to the message again.

Once it was done, he pressed the play button, and with his face on his hands and his eyes closed, he listened. His own voice, heavily distorted, issued from the two reel tape recorder

"_Hello Amanda. You don't know me but… I know you…. I Want To Play A Game…"_

_**Author's Note**__: I would like to thank each and everyone who reads and reviews my first fanfic that was published on this site__ . Rest assured, I will continue to publish more fanfics. It's not over. Far from it. I thank __**dmur446, DeathSidhe, RebeccaRoy, Sakura Lisel and 666-HyuugaNeji-999 **__for their reviews. Thanks a lot!!!_

_**Disclaimer**__: The characters in The Test Subject belong to J.K. Rowling and to Lionsgate Entertainment. I have no claim whatsoever over the complex and intriguing characters they have created._


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